Chapter Eleven
He’d left without a word to his father.
Curtis was so angry, so disillusioned, that he’d left the de Lohr encampment with only a word to Westley, who had no idea why his brother was grabbing his saddlebags, his weapon, and heading to the corral for his horse.
Curtis told Westley that he’d return in the morning and to make sure Lady Leominster wasn’t there when he came back.
As Curtis took off on his fat golden warhorse, Westley had gone running for his father.
Curtis had intended that his father should know that he left, but also that he would return in the morning so Christopher wouldn’t send out search parties.
Curtis needed time alone, and Christopher would have to understand that.
The town closest to Brython on the English side of the border was Presteigne, and that was exactly where he was heading.
He’d find an inn, order a good meal, and sleep in a good bed and not a traveling cot, which was never very comfortable.
He’d have a fire and peace and comfort for the night before heading back to the encampment and demanding his father annul the marriage.
As he saw it, that was necessary.
Did he really want the annulment? No, he didn’t.
He’d rather been looking forward to a marriage with Elle.
She had moments where he could see her warmth, her eagerness to please and willingness to learn, but they were so few and far between.
He didn’t really mean all of those things he’d said to her.
He’d said them because he was angry and she’d pushed him beyond his limit.
He was angry because she seemed to be giving up on them before they even got started.
Perhaps that was what angered him the most.
She couldn’t see past the knight to the man beneath.
Now, all he felt was disappointment.
Presteigne was less than an hour’s ride from Brython.
It was still early enough in the evening that people were still out in the street, hovering around open doors from homes or inns as warm light streamed through doorways and onto the darkened street.
He could hear laughing and talking as he entered the edge of town because there were three inns on this side of the village alone.
One of them seemed particularly popular, but he was looking for something quieter.
He wanted peace tonight. He needed it. It was supposed to be his wedding night, but he was going to spend it getting drunk.
Unfortunately, the town’s six inns and three taverns were all busy this evening.
It was a cold night, so people were looking for some kind of warmth and shelter for the evening.
He ended up going back to the east side of the village and selecting The Earl and the Oak, a two-storied inn that had more of a tavern feel to it because there was drink and entertainment below while the sleeping rooms were upstairs.
Curtis stabled his steed in the livery behind the inn before proceeding inside to secure a rented chamber for the night.
The innkeeper, a tall man whose lower half of his left leg was a wooden peg, was more than hospitable to a knight willing to pay well.
He took Curtis to the best chamber he had, on the corner of the building overlooking an alley and the livery yard.
It was guaranteed to be quiet, away from the street, and Curtis ordered a meal before settling in for the night.
He suspected it was going to be a long one.
The first thing he did after settling in his rented chamber was to simply sit in silence.
He had been in a month-long battle where noise filled the air both day and night.
Siege engines, men screaming, and the sounds of battle had been part of his life every minute of every day.
As the night deepened around him, he lit a fire in the small hearth and sat by the window that overlooked the alley.
The night above was clear, with a brilliant moon hanging in the sky.
He could hear nightbirds in the distance, and all around him there were sounds of civilization as people hunkered down for the night.
He could smell the evening meals wafting upon the breeze, and occasionally, he could hear a husband and wife speaking.
In fact, across the alley was a small cottage with a small yard and a little barn.
He watched as a child, a small boy, came out of the barn with a bucket of what was evidently milk.
The child shut the barn door and headed into the house, where his mother thanked him for milking the cow.
Somehow, that family had his attention. It was a simple family, and he couldn’t see if they had more than just the one son, but he could hear the mother’s voice as she sweetly spoke to her child and encouraged him to eat all of his bread and vegetables.
Meat was very precious to poor families, so the poor would generally eat only vegetables for their meals.
But it struck Curtis that the boy didn’t seem to mind that they were poor.
In fact, he probably didn’t even know they were poor.
All that mattered was that he had a loving mother and a loving father and a warm home to grow up in.
Somehow, that depressed Curtis.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected of his own marriage, but he had expected at least what his father and mother had.
Even though he had heard stories, from his own father, no less, as to how much his mother did not want to get married, they were still able to put aside their differences and raise ten children.
Curtis only remembered the warmth of his family when he was young and how his older sisters doted on him.
He only remembered his parents being loving toward each other, and, quite frankly, that was the example set for him.
Of course he should want that for his own marriage.
But it didn’t look like that was going to happen.
As he listened to the mother and the father talk to their young son, he began to sorely regret how he’d spoken to Elle.
He wasn’t usually a man to get upset like that, and most definitely not with women, but she had hurt him.
The more he thought on it, the more he realized that was why he had lashed out the way he had.
He had told her to be gone in the morning, but a large part of him was hoping she was stubborn enough to disobey him.
He was also thinking that perhaps he should just go back to the encampment tonight and apologize to her for becoming angry.
Perhaps if he did, they might smooth things over.
But he didn’t have high hopes.
His meal came several minutes later. There was an enormous bowl of stewed beef chunks with currants and carrots, plus a custard that was full of onions and baked with cheese.
It was delicious. There was also plenty of bread and butter, and a big bowl of stewed apples with cloves and honey.
Lastly, there was an enormous pitcher of what turned out to be warmed wine that was full of spices.
He sucked down the stewed beef and the onion tart and practically inhaled the bread and butter.
He didn’t realize he was so hungry until he took the first bite, and after that, everything on the tray ended up in his mouth in short order.
Even the trencher, a flat disk of stale bread, was eaten because it was soaked in the gravy from the stewed beef.
Between bites, he drank copious amounts of the spicy wine until there was nothing left.
Stuffed and fairly drunk at that point, he ended up passing out in the chair he was sitting in.
The food and the warmth of the room had lulled him to sleep, and considering he had hardly slept in the past month, his body was ready for the rest. Even though he slept deeply, he still had one ear open.
It was the trained warrior in him, always listening for danger.
It was the curse of a knight.
Part of his window overlooked the stable yard, and he heard when a horse entered the yard.
He could hear the steady clip-clops and the crunching of the earth.
It was enough of a noise to wake him, but only because he wanted to make the transition over to the bed and not sleep in the chair.
He had paid good money for that bed, and he intended to use it.
His resolve to return to the encampment that evening was sliding just a bit, but he was certain he could make it back before sunrise.
Before the deadline he had given Elle. But that was until he looked into the stable yard as he got up from his chair.
Elle was down there.
He also recognized Peter’s horse immediately.
Peter rode a horse that was as red as a sunset, with a white stripe down its face and four white socks.
The horse was very recognizable. Suddenly, Curtis was wide awake as he watched Peter speak to Elle, who was standing next to the horse.
Puzzled, Curtis quickly made his way down from his room and out into the livery yard just as Peter was leaving.
His brother caught sight of him.
“Then you really are here,” Peter said. “I saw your horse just inside the livery door, but I wasn’t sure this was where you had found lodgings for the night.”
Curtis’ focus was on Peter for a few moments before shifting to Elle. “Of course this is where I would be,” he said to his brother, even though he wasn’t looking at him. “Why would I leave my horse here and not stay here?”
Peter could see where the man’s attention was, and he turned his horse for the alley.
“Because there are two other inns across the street, and I do not think they have liveries,” he said.
“You could’ve been over there for all I knew.
But now that I have found you, I shall leave your wife here and bid you both a good night. ”